


Picnic

by Terminality



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Post-Sburb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminality/pseuds/Terminality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble request: Dave and Karkat go on a picnic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on tumblr. I'm still taking more drabble requests if anyone is interested: http://terminalityfic.tumblr.com/ask.

"A picnic."

He's standing in front of you, blanket tossed over one arm, wicker basket in the other, and you tell by the fact that his shades are pulled up to the top of his head, pulling his hair back, that he's going to start doing that thing where he begs. And makes that face that he thinks is appealing or something and definitely isn't adorable at all. You are not weak against the face. Nope. Karkat Vantas is a stronger troll than that, not one to give in to the whims of a whiny matesprit.

"A picnic?" You ask, because okay, you have to at least give this a thought or else he'd never ever let you live it down.

"Yep, a picnic. You know, romantic afternoon in the park, basking in the sun, eating tiny sandwiches and fruits out of a swag little basket. Look at it dude, it's so swag. Do I seriously need to define the word picnic for you? Because that is a sad little life you've led up until now if that's true," he says, and you stare at him over the edge of your book for a long moment of contemplation.

Sitting in the sun? Going to the park?

Neither of these things sound appealing at all.

"Fuck you, Dave. What's the point? To fry to a crisp until all my skin flakes off? Can't we just not go out and instead eat in our perfectly functioning, cool apartment?"

He looks at you like you just crushed the one dream he ever had in his entire life and you roll your eyes so hard you almost see your thinkpan. He's insufferable. He's a douche. He's the most pathetic man in existence.

He's absolutely fucking irresistible when he makes that face and comes over and starts kissing your forehead and cheeks and saying please and fucking Christ.

"Ugh oh my god, fine, Dave, fine, get off of me jesus christ you're one step away from licking my goddamn face. We will go on this 'picnic' if it will make you leave me alone about it for the rest of forever. Literally forever," you say, and he grins at you like a stupid, stupid pitiable moron and you sigh and close your book with a snap.

Guess you'd better change.

\---

It takes you almost ten minutes upon entering the park to find a spot that's not infested with screaming wigglers and over-enthusiastic bark-beasts and dumb human sports, and by the time you spread out the blanket and Dave starts pulling the food out you're both already sweating, the humidity making your shirt and hair cling to your body in the most uncomfortable ways possible. You plop to the blanket with a loud grumble and you shake your hair with your fingers to try to loosen it from your forehead and neck. This was a terrible idea. So fucking terrible, in fact, you think it could win awards for just how terrible it is.

Dave is staring at you when you look up from where you're digging your fingers into the grass, and he passes you a waterbottle with an apologetic look. You snatch it from him with more irritation than you'd meant to, and he huffs at you in annoyance, sitting out the bowls of food and snacks while you down the water in one gulp. It makes you feel a little cooler: a welcome, momentary reprieve from the heat.

"Didn't think there'd be so many kids out here, ugh," Dave says, watching the group of human wigglers playing ball twenty feet away.

"It's summer," you say, and he shrugs and focuses instead on making a plate of food. You resume your attack on the patch of grass at your side, looking up only when he nudges you in the leg with the plate of food. You take it from him with a muttered "thanks" and he nods at you in response. You ignore the food for a moment, too hot and annoyed to feel much like eating it, and he eats in relative silence, watching you and the sky and the group of kids.

When you finally look down, you realize he's made everything you like: your favorite human fruits, human sandwiches, troll grub candy corns. From the side to the treats it's a picture perfect image of every food you like.

You suddenly feel like a huge blistering fuck.

"Sorry," you mutter, taking a bite of fruit, and he snaps his head toward you and looks at you, completely motionless, for a long moment before cracking a smile and shaking his head.

"Nah dude, I should've checked the weather. It's so fucking hot even I can't handle it," he says, and you roll your eyes and shake your head. You sit your plate to the side and scoot across the blanket to him, grabbing his hand in yours and giving it a tight squeeze.

It's not often Dave tries to be "romantic," in either the troll or human sense, and the fact that he's gone out of his way this once makes you feel horrible for being such a skeptic asshole. It's hot and gross but you don't care too much as you pull him close for a quick kiss, and you can see him blink in surprise under his shades before you close your eyes. He returns the kiss briefly before pushing you away with a laugh.

"Too hot out here for that, babe. Save it for later," he tells you, and you roll your eyes and nod in agreement, moving a bit to the side to give him space to eat. You pick up your plate, watching the groups of people mill about the park while you eat, and you decide maybe picnics aren't so bad. You could get used to this.

There's a loud crack and the next thing you know it's pouring down rain.

By the time you get back to the apartment, you're drenched from head to toe, Dave is laughing up a storm, and you're clicking at him in a whir or annoyance and anger about "stupid parks" and "just when it was getting good the entire universe takes another big steamy dump on my life." You help each other get changed, and you bum a pair of his shorts because it's too hot for sweatpants, and you eat the rest of your picnic on the living room floor watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.


End file.
